How I know God is real.
How I know God is real.

“I found it!” I told Grandma, clutching my side from running so hard back up to the front of the house.

“Where did you find it? How…?”

I never did tell her that I said a prayer. I just shrugged my shoulders and said it was in the shed. (Oh, the innocence and lack of ego of a young child!)

Later I would come to realize how profound an experience that was for me. In those few minutes I learned for myself that God was real, that He knew me, and that He heard and answered prayers. Becoming intimate with the Spirit had also begun for me.

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The best advice
The best advice

Shaking her head, my grandma said, “Someday, this will come back to benefit you.”

I was only eight or nine years old so I didn’t understand what she was saying, but I filed those words away into the back of my mind to come back to later.

Now I understand what she meant.

And it was probably the best “advice” I’ve ever received.

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Abandoned, yet again.
Abandoned, yet again.

My dad’s response of a shrug rang through my mind as I sat furious and shivering all the way home.

It was not a quick trip, and I was humiliated and angry the whole way.

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The day I grew up.
The day I grew up.

Even to this day, when I think of that moment, the feeling of emptiness wells within me. Now I have words to make sense of it: The parents who were supposed to take care of me just weren’t capable. I am on my own.

That’s the moment I grew up.

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